Role Reversal
by Fish Wishes
Summary: AU: In which the stories you've been told are lies and the truth of the legends bind us all to this Earth. The fledgling is revealed as the master and the master as the fledgling. A rewriting of our beloved Hellsing.
1. Master of Monsters

_Disclaimer:_ All original characters and story line belongs to Hirano Kohta. Some dialogue lines/scenes have been adapted from the manga/OVA. I do not own. Nonprofit. This is a blanket statement!

**Role Reversal**

**Prologue: Master of Monsters**

"Find her damn it! How hard is it to kill a twelve year old?" roared a furious middle-aged man. His hair was peppered and gelled in the oily fashion; his moustache twitched in irritation. A group of agents carrying M1911s surround Richard Hellsing, the vengeful brother of the previous leader of the Hellsing Organization and the Protestant Knights, Arthur Hellsing. As the group made their way down one of the many halls in the Manor, Richard strutted like a rooster whose feathers were ruffled.

"I am not about to hand over Hellsing to a child—a child! How dare my brother give it to her? I've waited twenty year for him to die, and when I was so close to getting it he snatched it away and gave it to that bitch!" he snarled, cocking his own gun. "Come out, come out where ever you are. Miss Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, my little niece, I will find you—Hellsing is mine!"

Little did he or the other operative expect the very girl they hunted for was above their heads in the air duct. Integra looked down from the vent. "So it has come to this; what of your morals, uncle?" the girl huffed as her large wire framed glasses slid down her upturned nose. "Right, then." She shoved the spectacles back in place and crawled onward, intent on following the last piece of advice her father relayed before his death, "Integra, if your life is threatened, and your enemies surround you on all sides, go to the deepest part of the dungeons. In the last cell, you will find your salvation. It will protect you no matter what."

It was a painful process to go through the air ducts. The tight space made her nervous and dust coated her lungs. Grief weighed her down as well, but for the honor of her father she pushed on, ignoring all the discomforts. Hope burning in her heart.

The air duct stopped. Peeking down the final vent, the heir to the Hellsing deemed it safe and lowered herself into the dank hallway. Emergency lights illuminated her gloomy surroundings. The old foundations stuck out of the walls like broken bones. Mildew climbed on every inch of the stones. The smell was putrid. Each breath was thick and rancid. A heavy, bolted door was the only ornament, rudimentary, illegible writing scribbled on the wood. It terrified her—these gruesome markings. She was repulsed and compelled. Something was behind the door, something important.

The door looked heavy, rusted, nothing a ten year old could open, yet it opened smoothly when she touched the jagged carvings. Dim light filtered in. Dust danced over the floor and something sinister lingered past the disturbed particles. She opened the door wider.

"A corpse?" she breathed, "Wh-what good is this?" Integra stared at the emaciated figure. It looked eerie, leaning up against the wall, as if it was getting ready to stand back up. Sniffing, she shuffled into the cell, not bothering to shut the door. "At least you won't be alone anymore," she addressed the corpse, "I'll be joining you soon enough." Hope extinguished, she collapsed next to the body and waited for her demise.

* * *

"Come on! It's open!" called a voice. Feet stamped down the hall. Integra's heart slammed in her chest. Perhaps she lied; death did not seem like an option she was willing to take. She shook, but struggled to stand as her knees knocked together. If she was going to die, it would be on her feet.

"There you are my little niece!" exclaimed Richard as he waltzed in. "Where have you been?" A sick grin wrinkled his aging face.

"Uncle!" Integra hissed, "Why are you doing this? Is your soul so full of hate you cannot realize what is for the best?" She paused and gathered the last morsels of her courage. "You are not fit to lead Hellsing!"

Richard's fist connected with Integra's face. "Shut up!" he spat at her quivering form. "Like I'd give Hellsing to a _runt_ like you!"

"Sir," called an agent. "Look at this!" The men brought the desiccated corpse to his attention.

"What?" laughed Richard, "My brother lost his mind! I should have had control of Hellsing long ago!"

Integra bristled at the brazen insult, but was disheartened. Her father promised her a savior. She expected something more than this ancient body. It did her no good…right?

"Ah, enough," he said as his chuckling floated down the hall. Richard cocked his gun and fired. The bullet grazed the girl's arm. She shrieked. The excruciating pain consumed her arm. Her blood spattered behind her and desecrated the corpse. "After all that trouble, you didn't think I'd let you off so easily?" he scoffed, "Oh no, I am going to thoroughly enjo—By God!"

Slurping echoed in the room. Horror engulfed the agents. These grown men, who have been tested over and over again, now cower because of something behind her. She dared to see what caused them to quake like rabbits before a hungry fox. The corpse was no longer a common corpse. It lapped at Integra's blood like a thirsty dog. Steam rose up from the body and life flowed under the skin.

_Lord have mercy, _she begged.

"S-shoot!" shouted Richard. Blasts erupted from every firearm. The sound made the child temporarily deaf, but not blind. She watched as the figure rose up from the floor and absorbed the shots. The body shred its former appearance. A grotesque dead thing it no longer was, but a beautiful woman. She did not look intimidating; in fact, she looked innocent! Short, blonde, and curvy, but her red eyes instilled fear. The woman glanced at Integra. Calm settled over the heir.

"_It's all right," _something whispered in the recesses of her mind.

Wind whooshed over Integra as she gripped her bleeding arm. Watching this stranger snap the necks of the agents was like watching a monstrous dance. She whirled and twisted and turned in fantastic ways to leave every partner dead in her wake until one remained: Richard.

His gun shook as he raised it toward the woman. "What are you?" he choked out before she snatched his wrist and wrenched it around. Popping, cracking, and a sick squelch followed. Hand and gun slapped down on the dungeon floor. Blood spurted from Richard's stump. The woman let him slump to the floor and wriggle in pain like a worm that had been cut in half for bait. By then, though, she gave her full attention to Integra. The girl was memorized by this person—no—creature.

_She moves too fast, too gracefully, too inhumanly! _she thought.

"Integra, descendant of Abraham Von Hellsing, his blood flows strong in your veins." The voice sounded sad, regretful. The stranger knelt before the heir and bowed her pretty face down. "I am at your service. Command me as you will."

Integra's mind scratched for an answer, an explanation. As always she was quick to the draw and came up with a ridiculous, but, considering the situation, a plausible one: "Vampire."

"Yes," hissed the woman, ashamed of such title.

Sharp bangs exploded. Integra flinched. No more harm came to her, though. The vampire's arm deflected the bullets.

"Damn it!" grunted Richard. His last attempt to murder his niece failed.

A gun's safety clicked. This time, Integra held a weapon. Her courage revived. "What do I call you, monster?" she asked, aiming over the woman's arm.

"Seras Victoria, Master."

"Very well." Integra pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Author:** Thank you for reading my new chapter fanfiction. I understand this beginning might be boring, considering it went right along with what happened in the manga/OVA, but realize I needed to set the stage. I will follow the general sequence of events from the manga/OVA, but that does not mean everything will happen in the exact same way. Also, my goal is to keep our beloved Hellsing character true to themselves as much as possible. None of that ooc shit here! I hope you stick with it and enjoy. PLEASE, comment as well! I like to hear what you think. (However, you flame; I report.) A big thanks to Pojo-san, too, for her betareading and selfless help. She's so freaking amazing!


	2. Vampire Hunter

—**Role Reversal—**

**Chapter One: Vampire Hunter**

It was a lovely night. Each star shone so vividly, twinkling down on to Earth. But it was the moon (yes the moon!) that stole the lime light. Its face fully unveiled for all to view. Its unchanging grin illuminated the sky. So eerie was its color this night, a dusty red coating the surface. It bathed the country side in an unnatural light. It was so alluring one might find themselves unable to turn their gaze away from its brilliant sight. See there—one has already been intoxicated by its elegance!

"Oh beautiful, divine night!" this onlooker sighs. And what a sad noise it was! She could not stare so lovingly towards the heavens without worry or care. No amount of wishing, dreaming, hoping, praying would ever allow her to reach up towards the pure splendor of the moon. She is denied its perfection for she is damned forever. She condemned herself. Forced to tear her eyes away and look towards the dismal Earth which bore no fruit for her, so desolate was this life. But this night, oh this grand precious night, perhaps it is the night to change every night?

* * *

"How breathtaking," a man stated. The diamonds in the sky winked at him as if they held a secret they would not yet divulge. The fields around them were quite, too. What was the night hiding from him?

"Joshua!" barked the police commander.

"Sir?" the man drawled, glancing at his superior.

Readjusting his holstered weapons, the middle-aged man huffed, "It's time to do what we're paid for."

A cruel grin spread across his subordinate's face. "Oh, and how I _love_ to do my job."

"Too much in my opinion," grumbled the commander.

Joshua chuckled softly, "Call me a sadist then." He double checked his ammunition.

"I never denied you weren't, boy!"

"Boy?" Joshua mused, "I believe I am past the age of boyhood, sir."

"No, yer not even a child, just barely a baby," the calloused officer affirmed. "D-11!" he announced, breaking off all private conversations. The operatives turned towards their commander. "The situation in town is unknown. Therefore, we've got permission to fire at will." A look of warning flashed in Joshua's direction. He acted oblivious. "Our target has been described as a priest, capture him alive if possible. Stay in groups of three and keep radio contact." The leader of the squad stomped out his smoke. "Now, let's do what no one else will."

"Don't you mean _can_, sir?" a newcomer interrupted. A round of chuckles sounded.

"Anyone _can_ do what we do, but we're the only ones that have the balls for it," a veteran scoffed.

"Am I the only one who's doing it for the fun?" Joshua smirked.

"Most defiantly! I'm scared to think of what would happen if you weren't on our side Josh." The same veteran shook his head and busied himself with last minute preparations.

"Enough. I have a wife and pie waiting for me at home. It's time for this Chedder business to be put to rest."

"Trying to be funny, sir?" Joshua asked.

Giving the younger officer a hard look, the commander said, "I don't joke or laugh about death and killing, boy. Now keep that damn black mane away from your eyes or I'll have it shaved off!"

"Sir."

Underneath the ever watchful moon, the men dispersed into the shadowed woods—ignorant of their ultimate demise.

* * *

At a temporary base less than three kilometers* from Chedder, an unidentified SUV rolled up to the yellow police line. An inconspicuous driver politely opened the door for the occupants, a woman, to emerge from the chic interior. She worn a conservative olive suit, and her long, white-blonde hair waved in the autumn wind. The air was damp with rain and worry.

"Sir Hellsing!" A police officer jogged to meet her.

"Where are the incompetent men running this operation?" the woman demanded.

"This way—sir." He led the way to a tent. "We are all out of ideas…" he mumbled, pushing aside the canvas door.

Inside the makeshift headquarters, a plump Englishman tapped his foot, physically voicing his impatience. He froze, a look of disbelief plastered onto his face. "_You're_ Sir Hellsing?" Judging by the man's inflection he also implied the comment, "You're a _woman_?"

"Yes. And now that I am here, you may rest easy in knowing that this operation is under the direct jurisdiction of Hellsing." A light smile graced her sharp facial features. She readjusted her round wire frames and began the painful process of explanation. "Three hours after you sent two teams of soldiers, followed by a D-11 troop, all communications were lost –"

"But we can still see them on hidden cameras! As well as what we assume to be civilians!" an imprudent officer interjected.

The previous smile disappeared from Sir Integra. "They are not _alive_—Everyone, the villagers, your officers, they are all are mindless, decaying ghouls. We do not care about the ghouls, but the one who created them: the _vampire._"

After the information she divulged hit, she received vicious rebukes. "A _vampire?_ Is that really the explanation you have to give us!" The leader was furious. He didn't need to be mocked, especially by such a woman as this. "You expect me to believe such nonsense?"

"Yes." The declaration shocked the room into silence before the uproar surged forth again. A predictable amount of cursing and fowl language spewed from those receiving the ridiculous, but very factual information. All denied such a preposterous claim. As they argued with another the driver who followed her in offered a cigar. She picked her choice and took a draw. Now she was ready. "Ignorant pissants!" Sir Integra proclaimed with a strong and unwavering voice, "I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not! All that matters is you do not get in our way. We, the Hellsing Organization, are a part of the Protestant Knights. We have been doing the same thing for centuries—crushing all inhumane entities threatening this great country and her mortal people."

With the slack-jawed attention of all those in attendance, she continued, "You may condemn more of your men to the town, but they are likely to become a nice midnight snack for the vampire. Vampires will drink any type of blood. Most people bitten will become ghouls because they are unchaste. But it is a _virgin's_ pure, unsoiled blood they crave the most. When a virgin of the opposite sex is bitten, another vampire is born into our world." She spoke of these matters with such ease as if she discussed the weather over tea! "I sincerely hope no person fitting such description was amongst your company for as soon as the vampire in charge of this mess is eliminated- all will become dust. _That_ is our job, gentlemen."

The commanding officer threw away his pride and asked, defeated, "What are we going to do to fix this then?"

"We?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "There is no _we_ for this, your human men are no longer required. Only one, dispatched from my organization, will close this matter in the proper manner."

"One person?" A soldier exclaimed, "Didn't you say this was a vampire! How can one man kill a monster?" Panic laced his voice.

"One woman." Sir Integra grunted, puffing her cigar.

"Pardon?"

She blew out the smoke in an impatient manner. "_She _is capable for this special task for she knows vampires better than any of us ever could." A mysterious tone plagued the woman's voice.

* * *

A nubile figure sprinted down a path between two plains. An impossibly large and undoubtedly heavy weapon hung over a shoulder like a backpack. She admired the moon while her body guided itself. Pebbles didn't crunch as she moved along. She disturbed nothing. Yet, things disturbed her, such as the unpleasant task ahead. She hated to see the monster she was reflected in others. It reminded her no matter how well she behaved or controlled herself, she was no longer human. It was a long passed dream, and she lived in the nightmare.

* * *

The situation deteriorated. Despite perfect shots or close range firing, Joshua's foes kept on coming. He was frustrated, to say the least. When he killed something he expected it to die, not to rise up again, moan, and keep advancing. Joshua reserved his rounds and retreated. He did not bother with the other D-11's; he saw them go down. He was not a dumb hero who risks their own skin for a something like a body. Besides, it would not bother him to report their deaths. He was not very emotional when it came to touchy subjects; nonchalant (with a touch of sarcasm) would describe his overall demeanor.

The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. Joshua tensed. He was being hunted. His loose bangs swirled around his head in the summer night's breeze. He waited. He did not hide. He would face whatever was coming. Shuffles, groans, and disgusting smells confronted Joshua in moments. He gagged. He was familiar with this stench. It came from a rotting body.

"What a stupid human!" cackled the pseudo-priest, "You think you can kill me? A Vampire?" More laughing followed. Joshua watched through calculating eyes, a frown tweaking his lips.

"You're the last one." A cruel smiled slipped onto the creatures lips. "I will enjoy this." Mouth wide, the man lunged. Joshua raised his gun, steadied his aim, and prepared to fire. A mad grin slipped onto his face. "So this is the face of death," he murmured, tensing on the trigger. A sharp _crack_ echoed in the night. Joshua's face remained impassive as he watched a petite woman wrestle the hideous vampire to the ground, as if every day he dealt with such an obscure situation.

"G'off!" growled the priest. "What are you doing? Aren't you a vampire, too? Have you gone and betrayed your own species!" The lady gave no reply, her lips tight. "Bitch!" hissed the creature. "Kill her! Fire!" The armed corpses obeyed. Joshua hit the deck as stray bullets burrowed in the ground where he stood. If the stranger was their target now he would not get in the way.

Silence hung heavy until the priest's voice broke over the consistent moaning, "What a dumb girl!"

Joshua looked up from his spot. A bloody heap of meat and bones lay at the murder's feet. The officer agreed. She was dumb.

The wind blew hard. "Gotcha," chuckled the vampire. The creature held a handgun at Joshua's head "Ready for this?" it sneered.

Joshua cackled, "Oh, yes, I'm ready!" He turned his head so the barrel was shoved up against his temple. "Come now, you big scary _vampire_," he sneered. "Fire your big scary gun!"

Taken aback, the creature stuttered for a moment before anger took over his actions. "I was going to just kill you off, after all what good is a _male_ virgin to me?" Joshua's dark eyes illuminated with fury. "But I'm gonna make you squirm like the filthy worm you are!"

As the pseudo-priest pulled the trigger, the D-11 sprang to his feet, gun in his hand—neither had a chance to fire. A roar rushed into Joshua's ears. The murderer looked horrified. Satisfaction came over the officer even though he was not the one who killed the beast. The vampire turned to dust. The moans ended. And the night's still broke as insects and owls celebrated the loss of the danger. A stitch tore at his side. He made to clutch the muscle and massage it out, except nothing was there. The shot killing the vampire tore through him first.

Blood bubbled down his lips. It was his first time tasting something so distinct as his own blood. What was left of his organs hung in the air like wind chimes, knocking against another. The ground swayed. He began to fall. "I've got you," someone said, as they lowered his body down. "I did not mean to shoot you," it continued, the hazy outline of the woman hovered over Joshua. "But, now—now you're dying!"

He had the vague desire to spit at the woman. _No shit_, he thought.

"You don't want to die; no-one does." Her words became more indistinct. "I wouldn't say I'm going to 'save' you because what you'll become…you'll probably end up hating me anyways. But at least you'll be able to choose death then." A spasm wracked his disemboweled body. His heart shuttered. His breath caught. He noticed the blood red moon and how brightly it shone. He noticed her blood red eyes and how brightly they shone.

* * *

"Why did you do it?" Sir Integra asked. Her cigar was a stump now.

"I don't know," replied the other. They watched as a body was loaded into an unmarked Hellsing van.

"I will discuss tonight's events later with you, servant." Sir Integra turned from Seras and stalked over to her escort.

"Yes, my master," the subordinate replied as Sir Hellsing's vehicle departed. The woman hesitated, but scrambled into the automobile with the body, minding her canon-like weapon. The Hellsing Organization departed as quickly as they came. The police would have to deal with the reports of this event. As the vehicle pulled back on to the road, she dared to pull back the plastic sheet to see the man lying beneath. He appeared thirty or so, with sharp features, thick black hair, and skin kissed by death. Soon though, this same man would rise up and walk again in the dark with her. A wistful sigh escaped between sharp canines. Seras could still taste his blood lingering on her teeth.

_I'm not alone anymore_, she thought, giddy with apprehension.

* * *

Author: Alright, let me address the main comment I already expect: I named Alucard's character Joshua because when traveling to South Africa he uses the alias "J.H Blenner". I thought it was a bit more creative to play off instead of using Vladmir or Vlad or all those super cliche ones.

*Three kilometers equals a little less than two miles.

As always, please review! And thank you to those who've reviewed/alerted. I hope this chapter is more interesting to read. I know the next one will be for sure.


	3. Murder Club

**Role Reversal**

**Murder Club**

"Tell me, Walter," he purred. "How long have you known my Master?" It was damp and cold, but he felt nothing. Then he would feel everything: the vibration of a fly's wings as it passed over his cheek; the pounding of the mice's heart in the floor boards; dust as it settled on the shoulders of his coat.

"I helped care for Sir Integra after her mother's death, sir." The butler attended to balance sheets on the mansion's budget. A table lamp focused a circle of light around the paperwork. "But that's not who you're referring to, is it?"

"Still sharp there, old man." Joshua lounged against the gaping windows, taking in the back facilities. London glowed on the horizon, filling the room with hazy orange light. The moon tucked behind layers of clouds. The afternoon rain phased into the night. He sipped from a wine glass like Ms. Victoria ate her blood like soup. It was a misplaced human action compared to her report to Sir Integra.

"He was…enthusiastic, Master," she hedged.

"In what terms, vampire?" the leader of Hellsing pushed. She never skimped on the details, no matter how early in the morning it was.

"He emptied a clip into the target."

"Oh? According to police reports there was something else, was there not?" Sir Integra picked up a file and quoted, "A 'blood-painted cross' was it? And his 'maniac cackling' afterwards? Ah, here's the part about 'excessive bullet cases found.' However, it's small. Just a footnote really. "

"Sir." Seras never took up space in the office. The ash tray held more of an intimidating presence with its graveyard of cigar butts.

Resigning to the rising sun, she ended the interrogation with a warning: "It's good to see your reckless choice has some redeeming qualities. He didn't have a problem following out orders." To call it a subtle jab would be misleading you, reader, for when it comes to pointing out Seras faults, this particular leader of Hellsing didn't bother to hide her disappointment. Sir Integra continued, "however, rein him in. Silver bullets are expensive, and I refuse to have loose cannon belonging to Hellsing. Despite his training and _enthusiasm_, I doubt he cares much about our mission."

Walter wondered if Mr. Blenner realized the similarities between Master and fledgling. He organized the documents before joining him at the windows. A ways passed the gardens were the training grounds. Muddy and full of men. One wouldn't think such a place would be bustling at eleven o'clock like the underground during rush hour. Of course, this is _Hellsing_. If these men expected to kill vampires then they needed to think like such monsters. And who better to teach them then the worst of them all?

To Joshua's chagrin she appeared as nothing but a normal, twenty-something human woman. The men treated her as such, too. They did not cower. They did not beg for mercy. They did not run. Their instruction was much like that of any military academy (except a few minute alterations in weapons and style). In this past month, he doubted her abilities. How could she be so strong if she rations her blood or refuses to exercise her powers (of which he's seen little proof of)? He's heard whispers of her nicknames: "Hell-Cat" "No-Life Queen" "Lilith" and multiple variations of a succubus or demon. None align with her abundant nervous smiles and positive remarks. Where is the confident seductress? The good-girl-gone-bad? Or other such identities that would be more appropriate for such an (apparently) esteemed monster? He was insulted by her.

"I do wonder what it is she sees in you."

Joshua snorted, "Everything she isn't."

"An arrogant, greenhorn? Oh, no, those days are far behind her. By a few centuries, I believe," the butler parried, his dry English humor colored his words.

He glared at the butler. She anchored him to a useless existence. She should have just left him to die if she insists on crippling him by remaining weak herself. After all, the pupil can only become greater than their master. If the master sits below all else and the pupil only rises above that, then the pupil remains ignorant.

He knows she's watching him. He wonders ever so briefly if she wants him to know, but he dismisses that. She is too dimwitted to think at such levels, he believes. Joshua finished the glass as the two men stood in silence, observing the lesson outside.

A soldier makes a grab for Seras' bum. Her retaliation is a squeal. No blood. No missing limbs. No agonizing pain. A fucking squeal. "I am already more of a Nosferatu than she is," he snarls. "She refuses to embrace her true nature." Blood travels down the stem of the glass, but he doesn't have to look to see it. He hears the tension between the liquid and solid and dragging sound as gravity coaxes it down its path to his hand.

Walter laughs at his ignorance. "Oh? Possibly you are jealous she gives more attention to the humans than her own fledgling."

Joshua sneers, "What a human way to think."

"Don't think yourself to be so high above us," Walter warned, his monocle catching the lamp light. "You ate, slept, and shat only months ago. Are you so quick to forget your origins?"

"My origins," he mulled. He gripped the glass. The molecules shifted. He knew it would shatter. When it did, he didn't flinch. Neither did Walter. The butler only sighed. Sir Integra cause enough messes with her ashes and Seras with grease from cleaning her weapons. Now he must watch out for broken glass about the mansion.

Joshua's skin stitched itself together. Blood vessel heals and skin cells reappear. He wonders how it is possible he is dead and yet so alive. It itched, but he didn't scratch it. He was now above lowering himself to such basic levels.

"Be careful." Walter turns away and retrieves his papers. He needs to copy and file the documents. He will not yet clean up this monster's messes personally. He will call upon one of the maids to take care of it once they arrive.

"Careful?" Joshua glanced away from the window. "Are you starting to care about me, Walter?" he teased, covering up unpleasant feelings he cares little to study about.

"No," the butler deadpanned, "But I do care a great deal for Miss. Victoria. And it would pain her a great deal if she had to kill you like she does to those other creatures."

"They were not Nosferatu!" he growls.

Walter steadied his gaze at the fledgling. "And neither are you."

Furious heat welled up inside of him and he used its power to propel him at the butler, his gun steadied at the underside of his chin. He grinned in triumph.

"Such arrogance," the old man sighed.

Frustrated at the lack of reaction, Joshua shoved the barrel closer against the skin...a tingling stretched around his neck. An uncomfortable and distracting burning. Something glistened to his right. His eyes flicked away and picked up on it right away. Wires. Silver wires.

"Miss. Victoria might not want to kill you, but I might enjoy the experience. It has been a while since I've killed one of you."

Man and monster ginned.

"Welcome to Hellsing. The place where even the butlers kill the undead," Joshua mocked.

"Indeed. I was not called the Angel of Death for nothing."

A gloved hand broke their concentration. The wires slipped away and the guns safety was put on, neither upon the wills of their wielders. Seras stood between them, petulant. A pout wrinkled her face.

"Please, really. Is this necessary?" She tried to act authoritative, perhaps using Sir Integra as a guide, but failed. The result formed into the appearance of an ignored child who wanted to join in, but was barred from such socialization.

Joshua did not want to talk to her. He was disgusted and insulted. Is this who his Master was to be? Is this truly what he had to look forward to in this new life? If so, he would welcome the death Walter offered. It promised to be a rare way to go.

He turned away, but an instinct clawed inside of him. It was similar to something a gazelle might experience when the lion is looking at them through the reeves of grass in the safari. He was like water hovering at 32 degrees, melting and freezing at the same time, conflicting himself. He was a solid. Trapped within the confines of carbon-ring chains that composed his body. Then, he was a liquid. Free to take the shape of his container.

As he flowed out of the room, he felt the barriers of his mind squeeze. He pushed back. It was a challenge not a threat. He dared her to break through the thin membrane where his thoughts lurked. However, she never does. It is as if she is respecting his privacy. Maybe he should have appreciated it, but he didn't. She was holding back. She didn't let herself become the true being she was meant to be. He felt the potential and the power swirl around her during his first mission, but he also watched as she restrained herself. He wanted to push her to her edge. He wanted to see her lose control. He wanted her true self because this facade she puts on can't possibly be who she really is.

_A Hell-Cat, _he scoffs. _More like a kitten_. He strolled through the halls and was pleased when people either shrunk away or found other ways to get where they needed.

* * *

"You must do something about him," Walter said.

She sighed. "I know, but jeez, could he be any more difficult about all of this?"

Walter raised his eyebrow. "He is taking it exceptionally well. I doubt that is it the problem, Miss. Victoria."

"Well, ya..."

Walter rearranged the papers. They were not disturbed by the threats between mortal and immortal. Seras needed to talk, and he was happy to oblige. When he thought nothing would come from the silence, she spoke up, "What do you suggest, Walter?"

"I think it might be wise if you—How is it said?—'put him in his place.'"

Seras groaned. "But that's just it! I want to avoid that whole dominate and subordinate thing. I want to be equals!"

"Maybe you are going about it in the wrong way, though." He stared. The orange in the sky was fading. Soon the sun above the clouds will turn everything gray and the fog of London will sink down into the morning traffic. Smog contributed to swirling phantoms of the early light. "Maybe it isn't you who needs to lower herself, but it is him that needs to rise to the occasion, perhaps? He seems...enthusiastic about such a prospect, after all."

She flinched. "Ah, yes. Very much so."

"Perhaps a little tutoring? He is running off instincts at the moment, but that only gets you so far, does it not, Miss. Victoria?"

The thought tantalized her. But who was she to teach a monster how to be a Nosferatu? They were quite different you see. She doubts she is fully one herself, too. She looks out the window. She already dismissed the soldiers from their training. They were a good bunch. Seasoned. Rightfully cocky, but it made her anxious.

"Your right, Walter." She nodded. "He needs a lesson on how to be a vampire."

"He's convinced he's more of one than you are," he said.

She chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I heard that one." Her smile waned. "It's a problem if he thinks that I am anything less than a monster."

"The worst of the worst." Walter agreed in the way a person knew it to be true, but wishing it wasn't.

* * *

Joshua glared at her. She knocked. Knocked. Why? Why should she be knocking? She should come and go as she pleases and do what she wants and yet she bends to the wills of human society and their constructs. She is above that. He is above that, and he refuses to revert back to that slobbering lifestyle. He did not open the door because he simply did not want to. She would leave soon anyways. She always did.

He played with the blood bag, pondering on when the best time it would be to enjoy it. A swirl of power radiated through the door and he paused, curious. The inner human of him (ferreted deep in his subconscious) screamed and thrashed. Run. Run. Run. He should not be here. He needed to get away. What is behind that thin barrier can rip him apart and knows how to torture him. He leaned forward. Leering.

_Finally_.

The intoxicating taste of her power pounded into his skull like a car crash. Leaving his brain mangled and disoriented. It wasn't until he saw her face, grinning as a child would after getting away with stealing a cookie, that he realized he opened the door for her. He did not slam the door on her sweet face like he so wanted to. Instead, he stepped aside like a gentleman to let her in.

The power receded from his mind. He felt like he escaped the rip tide, but to only be spat back on shore some miles always from his previous location.

"I am sorry about not being attentive to your needs," she began. "It has been a long time since I have tried to do this and the last time...well it didn't go as I had hoped." She poked at his blood bag as a form of distraction.

He stared. Said nothing. He wasn't sure he could properly form words right now and he wasn't going to try. Although she's shown him how to be the fool does not mean he would actually emulate such a thing. He would like to distance himself from her as much as possible.

"So…what do you want to know, learn, or whatever, really. We have a few hours and I figured I could, you know, help out," she said.

His tongue was heavy and thick. The musty air of the basement was all he could taste. It was like he just dragged his tongue over the stone foundations.

"Help?" he managed.

Her smile bloomed like watered desert flowers. "Yup! I suppose I should show you the ropes when it comes to your powers and such."

Excitement clawed at him. He narrowed his eyes. He did not look amused or happy. "An interesting thing to say coming from someone who doesn't even use her own."

"Ah, well, that is—" She straightened up. "I do not have to prove anything to you. I have chosen to live this way. I will not try to control how you decide to exercise your power. However, please be aware if you dissatisfy my Master, then I will restrain you."

He laughs. It is the laugh of your mortal enemy. It is the laugh of someone not taking you seriously. It is the laugh of her life—the one she heard more often than anything else. More than kind words. More than loving whispers. Even more than hateful threats.

"Then teach me, Master."

* * *

He shouldn't be surprised. He wasn't really, but he was. He wouldn't try to examine it too much right now because according to her, he would live forever now. That sounds boring to live forever, so he's decided to leave the boring parts like thinking and examining the situation too the time ahead when there might not being anything to think let alone do.

"You know about your third eye," Seras says, standing with a pathetic pistol aimed at a target.

He watched as a slug crawled up the side. He watched as the night wind disturbed the damp straw that stuck out from the target. He watched as she killed the slug, struck the straw, and emptied the clip into the same spot on the targets forehead. He wasn't surprised. He would be able to do that. Even at 800 meters. His body knew what to do even if he wasn't cognitively aware. It was natural for him now.

They continue with a few techniques and tricks. Thing having to do with dealing with the ghouls. She speaks. He listens, to the things he deems important of course. They continue to exchange that pathetic pistol. Its grip was never warm. How could it be? Why did he expect that? Neither were alive, but when it rested in his grip the though, that fact, slipped into his mind before his pulled the trigger, shooting away such trivial ponderings.

"You've adjusted really well to all of this," she says, holstering the pistol. Why did she use such a silly thing? He knows she uses a rifle with more power in the field. Why not carry through such strength? What a waste.

He looks down and sneers. "Should I say 'thank you?'"

"I wouldn't expect something like that."

He is surprised. He frowns. He doesn't want to be surprised, and he doesn't want to think about it. He turns and walks away. Joshua didn't like how she hunched her shoulders and smiled. She was no demon, no killer, no succubus. She was a fucking lost kitten, and he was supposed to learn something from her?

His first mission exploded his perception of the world around him. When he Woke Up, he understood, in a way, what was going on. He felt each follicle of hair on his body. Heard the rush of blood when Sir Hellsing and Walter greeted him. When he breathed, he tasted the spores of mold on his tongue. Saw how the individual fibers of clothing bent when his Master sat next him. And when she did, he could not detect her. She did not smell of anything, no body odor to indicate her true self, a corpse, a living dead, a vampire. For a few moments, he believed she was real and tangible. But then she spoke and made a bumbling fool out of herself.

He disregarded her for a month, exploring his new abilities himself. But when she said they had a mission, it was as if everything restarted. His first kill as a vampire enthralled him. The power. The heat. The blood. He revealed in it. He didn't know why he was killing or what these idiots had done, but it didn't matter. He was better than them, greater than them. Then, she was there, standing in front of him in the gory room. His body shivered when she first appeared, reacting to something greater than him (he denied this afterwards and thoughts nothing of it again). However, after that burst, she disappeared again from his senses. He glared at her because he knew she was real, but everything else was telling him she wasn't.

She looked at the cross on the wall he painted with bullets and blood.

"I suppose I should say welcome to the club." She crossed her arms. He couldn't hear the brush of fabric like he should, but he heard her well enough.

He grinned. This temporary blind spot, this weakness evident when she was around meant one thing. From here he could only get stronger. And even now, as he turned his back on her, he didn't give a damn because she just wasn't worth it. She refused to prove to him her prowess, so he will dismiss her: the one person he wasn't sure if she was really there.

**Author:** I really hope Seras isn't coming out as OCC. I don't want that nonsense here. Anyways, I hope you can get a feel for the dynamic that I will be pushing with those two. I hope the time changes weren't too confusing. I tried to make it obvious without doing that obnoxious "moments before" thing. The next chapter will prove to be fun and soon, Joshua will no longer be (you'll see what I mean ;3 ). Thank you for the reviews. The encouragement is overwhelming and so very helpful, too! Please, (if you want) continue!


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